


Madness

by Mulderist1013



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Ficlet, Gun Violence, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Post-Episode: s03e17 Pusher, Russian Roulette, Songfic, season three
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-14 20:04:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17515112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mulderist1013/pseuds/Mulderist1013
Summary: Saw a recommendation for Pusher fic on Tumblr and wanted to try my hand at it.  This is a short final act addition I was kicking around for a little while.





	Madness

_Wake up, it's not real life_

_It's not living, it's not living proof_

_How do I, do I justify staying in between the lines?_

_There's just no good excuse_

\-- “Madness” by Lucius

 

The buzz in Mulder’s head was deafening.  Pressure mounted in the temples and he felt like being pulled deeper and deeper underwater with his pulse pounding in his ears.  Tunnel vision formed with sparks of black creeping into the corner of his eyes as he tried to stay afloat. His mouth was dry and his breathing became sharp and ragged as he held the revolver.  He could feel Modell push further into his mind, twisted words and sinister intentions violated the most sacred space.

 

Mulder’s warning grip held Scully at the edge of the table.  She had made an attempt to get the weapon from him but he quickly stopped her.  She pressed her lips together and could see him struggle to have the upper hand in Modell’s game. Scully felt Mulder’s fingers press into the tender part of her forearm as he stiffly moved his arm in her direction like a tangled marionette. Now she was forced to stare at him down the barrel of a gun.  Scully swallowed hard as a tear fell down her cheek.

 

“You don’t have to do this Mulder. Fight him!”

 

“I’m gonna kill you Modell!” Mulder exclaimed as he unwillingly focused the revolver on his target.

 

“Yeah, pull the trigger Mulder then you’ll get a crack at me!”  Modell growled from across the table.

 

Scully didn’t struggle against Mulder’s hand but knew her time was running out to break his trance. She scanned the room for any signs of assistance and saw the reflection of the fire alarm on the wall behind her.  Scully felt his fingers loosen from around her wrist giving her a moment to slip away.

 

“S-scully, run!”

 

Her name escaped his lips in a terrified exhale. His trigger finger twitched as he heard Modell’s voice echo in his head:

 

 _“One...pull….one...pull...one...pull.”_  

 

Each word flowed like the beat of a metronome keeping time in a macabre dance. “ _One pull to end it.  One pull…”_  Mulder felt his window of control rapidly closing until Scully darted to the wall and pulled the fire alarm.  A ripple of clarity washed over him and he swiftly turned the barrel on his opponent. There was an audible gasp from Modell as Mulder finally pulled the trigger. One bullet was all it took to knock him to the floor but there weren’t enough rounds to finish the job, each squeeze clicked into an empty chamber. Mulder flipped the table on its side and kept firing imaginary rounds into Modell’s chest.   

 

Scully pressed against the wall as the SWAT team rushed into the room and swarmed Modell.   She slowly approached as Mulder reached out a hand to relinquish the weapon. He then eased into a chair feeling dizzy and nauseous, the officers chatter around him blended into a low hum. He could taste the sickly aroma of fear as he covered his face with his hands, trying to decrease the sensory overload.  Scully touched Mulder’s shoulder and he jumped from his seat then headed for the door on unsteady legs. She undid her kevlar vest, tossed it to floor and followed after him.

Mulder desperately needed air, he felt inebriated as he walked the hallway searching for an exit.   A voice from behind him called his name but he shook it off and kept moving.

 

“Mulder!  Mulder stop, please!”

 

Scully reached him as his legs buckled and he caught himself on the wall.  Dr. Scully knew he was in a state of shock and needed medical attention but Dana had the urgent need to comfort her partner.  

 

“Here, let me help you,” Scully said softly as she placed his arm around her shoulders, he was drenched in sweat and the skin on his arm felt clammy as it made contact with the back of her neck.  She adjusted her balance as a hand rested on his chest. “Let’s get you out of here.” Scully led them outside and found the surveillance van still parked in the lot, she opened the large metal doors and helped Mulder inside.  He collapsed into a chair and leaned forward onto his knees trying to breathe evenly, but every inhale caused bile to rise in his throat. He swallowed hard, allowing tears to collect in the corners of his eyes, his pressed back into the chair clasping his hands together.    

 

“It’s too much.  I wasn’t strong enough,” Mulder said to himself, shaking his head.

 

Scully knelt by his side and rested her hand on his cheek then his forehead, he felt cold and his stare was distant.  She bit her lip and moved closer.

 

“Mulder?...Mulder?”  She turned his face towards hers and stroked his tear-stained cheek with her thumb.  Her composure faltered as he looked through her. “Come back to me. Fox, come back to me,” Scully pleaded.  He blinked and she could see the focus slowly return to his hazel eyes. Mulder instinctively reached for her cheek, he needed to touch something real to prove he was back in his own head.

 

“I - I almost shot...you,” he muttered through a raspy breath, fingers brushed a soft tendril of hair from her temple.

 

“That was not you.  That wasn’t you,” she said in a hushed tone though no one was around to hear them.  Her hand linked with his and she tightened her grasp.

 

“He was so deep in my head, Scully.  I couldn’t stop myself. I had no control, no control.  If you hadn’t pulled that alarm,” he rambled as he slid his exhausted frame off the chair onto his knees, “Scully…I almost...I couldn’t...” Mulder cried as his arms encircled her waist, pulling her closer.  He failed to stifle a sob allowing it to escape into her chest.

 

Scully held him tight looking skyward for a brief moment as she tried to maintain her own level of control.  Her fingers massaged the back of his neck as tremors raked his body.

 

“I’m here.  It’s okay, I’m here,” she whispered into his hair.

 

Minutes crept by and Scully was able to coax him back to the here and now.  His breathing slowed and he finally pulled away from her. He got to his feet and searched for his previously discarded dress shirt and tie.

 

“Scully, I --” Mulder began after a deep breath.

 

“Don’t,” Scully said quietly as she adjusted his tie, smoothing it against his chest,  “You don’t have to say anything right now.” He gave a silent nod and slipped into his suit jacket then grabbed his coat and exited the van.  Scully followed and was surprised that Mulder walked back towards the hospital. She questioned his intent and he told her that he needed to confront Pusher with a clear head.  No more mind games. Scully reluctantly agreed and decided to investigate Modell from a doctor’s perspective as Mulder went on his fool’s errand. She stayed at the nurses station and requested to review a copy of Modell’s neurology scan, a nurse told her that a surgery report was also available.  Scully raised an eyebrow when she saw that Mulder’s well-placed bullet managed to put Modell in a coma.  She tapped the file against her hand and went to find Mulder.

    

The ambient noise in Modell’s hospital room hummed with the rhythmic beep of his heart rate monitor, a sterile soundtrack for a patient who shouldn’t be alive.  Mulder stood firm at the bedside with arms folded tightly across his chest. He was grateful the officers let him in but surprised he wasn’t being watched like a hawk. Mulder closed his eyes for a moment and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to massage away an area of tension.  

 

_I almost shot her.  You almost made me kill my partner.  I came so close. Jesus. Too damn close._

 

He exhaled and shook his head then turned his attention back to Modell.  Watching the automatic rise and fall of his chest, Mulder tried to push Modell’s voice out of his head but a faint echo remained.   Too long alone with his thoughts was a dangerous place to be. He didn't want to revisit that feeling; the feeling of helplessness, the feeling of shame, the feeling of not knowing what he would do if Scully was harmed.  Mulder felt his jaw tense as he stared at the shell of a man in the hospital bed.  Almost on cue Scully softly entered the room, helping to break Mulder out of a downward spiral.  She relayed her findings and informed him that Modell would never regain consciousness. Mulder countered with his discovery that Modell was refusing treatment for his brain tumor.          

 

“It’s like you said.  He was always such a _little_ man.  Maybe this was finally something that made him feel big.”  Mulder said with a waver to his voice. He then felt delicate fingers slip around his and squeeze;  pulling him out of the dark. Scully bit her lower lip and gave one last glance at Modell lying bandaged and comatose.

 

“I say we don’t let him take up another minute of our time.”


End file.
